Lucky
by Marjory Stewart-Baxter
Summary: Bella comes to the aid of a man stranded on the side of the road. Just one of those short little one shots that make it's way into your brain until you have no choice but to start typing.


It was another hot and sunny saturday morning in Yuma when Kingston and I loaded up into the truck and headed out to run some errands before the hottest part of the day hit. The August heat was already hitting the mid nineties and it wasn't even 10:00 yet. It was really saying something when it was so hot, your four year old didn't even want to go outside.

Gotta love the southwest.

We were on our way back home, driving down a desolate stretch of desert when I saw him. His motorcycle was pulled over to the side of the road, and he was leaned up against it, arms crossed against his chest, head dropped down with his hair hanging down in his face. His gray t-shirt was saturated with sweat, and clung to his muscular arms and chest. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, and his face was contorted from the pissed off expression he wore. If he hadn't been so good looking, he might have been scary.

But that's why I kept a Ruger under my seat.

There wasn't another car in sight, and I knew there probably hadn't been anyone else other than myself down through here today. Right now, I was the only person that could possibly save him from the buzzards.

He raised his face toward us when he heard the truck coming, looking of both hope and relief, mixed with a good bit of aggravation, and he straightened up and gave a small wave as I slowed the truck, pulling gently off, onto the shoulder ahead of him, and then backed up in front of where his bike was parked.

As soon as I parked the truck, I felt him drop the tailgate. I considered offering him help, but I figured I'd just get in his way, and he didn't need any more frustration than he already had. Kingston craned his neck to get a better look at what was going on behind him.

"Can I go help him momma?"

"No baby, I think he can get it himself. Besides, he looks a little…..grumpy." I said with a smirk, which earned me a giggle.

I watched as he secured the bike, trying to keep his sweat-saturated hair out of his face. I could tell he was frustrated, which no one could blame him. Being stranded on the side of the road, out in the desert heat is no one's idea of fun. He was a mess of sweat and sand, and I couldn't help but notice the way his muscles moved under his shirt as his dog tags jingling as he leaned over, struggling to harness the bike into the bed of the truck. I couldn't help but think about them hanging down and jingling together during…..other activities.

I shook my head away from those thoughts and fought my blush.

A few minutes later he was done. He slammed the tailgate and came around to the passenger side of the cab.

"I'm pretty nasty." He grumbled through the open window.

"Don't worry about it." I said simply. He climbed in without another word.

I pulled out slowly and headed toward town. We drove for several miles in silence, I kept an eye on Kingston sitting in his carseat in the back, watching our passenger curiously, but not saying anything.

"How long you been out there?" I asked softly, breaking the silence. He just shrugged.

"45 minutes maybe?" He answered gruffly.

"Anyone else come through?"

All I got was a hard shake of his head, and he went to staring out the passenger window, effectively ignoring me.

"Phone?"

He blew out an aggravated huff.

"No signal."

"You're right mommy, he is grumpy!" Kingston laughed from the back.

"King!" I admonished, glancing in my rearview to give him 'the look', then I looked over to my right. "So what did happen?" I gently prodded.

"I ran out of gas." He mumbled. I couldn't help the snort of laughter that came from me.

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"You heard me." He sighed, and dropped his head back against the headrest, lifting his sunglasses to scrub at his face. I really felt so bad that he had been stuck out there in the miserable heat, but to run out of gas?

"How?"

"Ugh, I don't know. I'm a damn moron."

"What's a damn moron?" Kingston immediately questioned from the back.

Sometimes I think that boy just _knew_ what words were bad, and specifically listened for them to come out. I huffed and threw a glare to my right and was met with an apologetic smile.

"Your father is," I said, slipping into my 'mommy' tone, as Jasper liked to put it, "but he shouldn't have said that. Please don't repeat that word." I looked up into the rearview to make eye contact with Kingston in order to make my point. Jasper turned in his seat to face Kingston better.

"I'm sorry King, Daddy shouldn't have said that, I'm just very….."

"Grumpy?" Kingston interrupted with a laugh. We both chuckled.

"Yes, very grumpy." He said with a smile. "But you know what might help?"

"A shower?" I deadpanned. Jasper poked me in the ribs, earning a small squeal and giggle from me, but kept going.

"I think we should get in the pool when we get home, what do you think?"

"Yay!" Kingston squealed from the backseat.

"But first, I think we should teach daddy how to put gas in his motorcycle." I joked.

"You're hilarious." He chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"You're lucky." I replied. He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"Don't I know it."

 **I was going to just leave him nameless and let everyone just picture whoever you wanted, but then I figured that would go over like a fart in church. I don't know where this idea came from, but it made for a nice break from SS, which of course I am still working on, believe it or not.**

 **MSB**


End file.
